I am so thankful for all the old grannies who approach me in the grocery store to coo over my baby. Because, for every sweet doting grandma there is someone else who takes one look at him and proclaims: "Oh my! He's so white!"

Yes. I know my son is the color of white rice. He's so fair he nearly glows. (He's a little glowing angel, I always tell RJ). And, honestly, I am a bit sensitive to the "white-boy" comments because I have a feeling as he grows older being nearly transparent isn't going to be his favorite physical feature. 

Now, I don't wish physical perfection for my son. I believe it actually serves a person better to be just "regular": Not incredibly beautiful but not totally unattractive. Learning to accept and appreciate your "lesser" physical qualities is a sign of maturity and emotional growth. (Of course, tell me that about the size of my nose in 7th grade and I would have rolled my eyes at you.) 

But, what I don't understand is why complete strangers feel the need to point out my son's pale skin. It's not like I go around telling people:

Your baby is SO fat!

Your little girl really looks like a boy!

Oh my goodness,  I sure how he grows into those enormous ears!

If you don't know me and you want to make comments about my child you better be pointing out his adorable dimples or big beautiful blue eyes. Mama Bear is on the prowl!

Change Of Scenery

Landon was acting uncharacteristically cranky the other day 

so we headed to the park for a change of perspective.

A few pushes on the swing and a trip down the slide and all was good in his world again. 

Sometimes I feel the same way.

Just a change of scenery can instantly correct my bad mood.

I think thats why so many people take vacations in The Great Outdoors.

Surrounded by nature we tend to forget the problems or the monotony of home.

And, while most of the population doesn't realize it

we meet God in nature. That good feeling you get when surrounded

by new snow, or crashing waves, palm trees or majestic mountains - thats God.

I feel so blessed to live near the ocean.

I can't take a walk on the beach without feeling refreshed.

I also love a good bookstore and a coffee shop.

I think God may dwell in printed paper and coffee beans too.

Where do you go to get refreshed?

Chunkster

The other day my mom and i were laughing over the many nicknames we have for Landon:

Chunky Monkey

The Chunkster

Big L

Little Prince

Bugs

Peanut Butter (peanut just wasn't enough oomph) 

When I was a baby they called me Pumpkin Butt.

Nice.

It's a wonder I don't have a complex about my rear.

R.J. went by "Little Dick."

(R.J. stands for Richard Jr. and his Dad was Richard Sr.

His parents aren't just cruel.) 

What were/are your nicknames?

Or what do you call your kids?

10 Months

It's hard to believe that our little guy is 10 months old. I can see him morphing from a baby into a toddler before my eyes. Like everyone says, time has gone by incredibly fast, yet it seems like ages ago that he was a newborn baby. Now he is a little person with his own opinions and desires.

These last few weeks have been some of our most challenging and some of our most fun. I love that Landon is a little chatter box. If you hand him a book he starts turning the pages and speaking in an alien language. It's brilliant. However, he also has realized that if he lets out an ear piercing scream (it's worse than a gaggle of excited fifteen year old girls) someone will give him what he wants. And if you tell me to ignore it I am going to insist you come over hear and listen to this sound. It's like trying to ignore the 100th verse of "This Is The Song That Never Ends..." - infinitely annoying.  We're working hard to our language development and baby signs to hopefully lessen the duration of the screaming period. It's the worst in the car.

He also knows what he likes. His favorite animals are birds and dogs. He loves going on a morning walk with his Dad and pointing out all the birds. He just has his consonants a bit confused and refers to all birds as "DA". 

And he's a rock star. Landon LOVES music. Even the chiming of a cell phone will get him dancin'. He's got a plethora of moves and will bust them all out in sequence to a good trance beat. But I make RJ limit the dance music - I don't want Landon to be subconsciously drawn to raves.

Thankfully (at this point) Landon's a good eater. He prefers to feed himself and his favorite food in the whole world is strawberries. He also really likes hummus and pita, soy hot dogs, blueberry bars, and yogurt. He could pass on the vegetables. 

His favorite toys include "lift and look" foam books, his walker, anything that makes music, and stackable rings. The world is his oyster as he crawls and explores everything. And, with a bit of practice he's slowly learning what is off limits and what is okay to touch. He loves pulling his socks off at nap time and occasionally decides to shed his pants as well. I am praying he never figures out how to remove his diaper and play in his own poop. I never could understand why people wanted to get video baby monitors - I get it now. 

RJ and I are seriously in love with him. Every night before we go to bed we tiptoe into his room just to get one more look. We both agree that our favorites times of the day are when he goes to bed and then when he wakes up again.

Make A Good Thing Better

With Valentine's Day just around the corner I thought I would let you in on the Hosking's secret to marital happiness and harmony:

Her name is Karen. And she's a marriage and family counselor. 

Marriage is awesome. And God-ordained. And wonderful. But marriage is hard. 

Let's be honest - you put a boy and a girl in a house together nearly 24-7. You ask them to share everything - money, food, the Netflix queue, recreational time, the computer, the bathroom, a toothbrush (or is that just RJ and I?), the blankets, etc. 

Then you throw in a kid or two, a mortgage payment that I swear is growing rather than shrinking, some in-laws, and a family budget and things can get ugly. In a perfect world, where we all follow the Bible without struggle, and we are completely selfless in every situation, marriage would be cupcakes and rainbows all the time. But, until heaven gets to earth, we have to actually work at creating a WE. It is a purposeful assignment that requires effort and a willing heart.

After much prompting from our dear friends with 20+ years of marriage under their belts RJ and I finally scheduled an appointment with Karen. "Make a good thing better," they kept urging us.  We do routine maintenance on our cars, our bodies, our homes, so why wouldn't we take our marriage in for a check-up?

The first time we drove to Karen's office RJ and I weren't sure what we would talk about. Would we even be able to fill the entire hour? We knew we had some issues: we don't fight particularly well - I tend to fly off the handle and RJ runs away, and we sometimes disagree about finances. But, besides a few little things here and there, we couldn't figure out what we could possibly discuss. 

Well...that hour was probably one of the fastest in my life! We couldn't believe it when Karen stood up to signal the end of our session. Just a few insightful questions from her and we had been off and running.  

Over the last few months we've discovered that in 5.5 years of marriage we've adopted patterns and systems that over the long haul could be detrimental to our marriage and our children. Tiny things that seem small now but multiply them by 30 years and we could be facing some challenges. It has been fascinating! And exciting! And helpful. We feel so good knowing that we're not only setting up our marriage to truly last a lifetime, but we are creating a better atmosphere and environment for Landon. Which will not only benefit our children but our children's children.

If I might be so bold, I actually have come to believe that if you don't think you need counseling you probably need it the most. The best athletes are those that know their weaknesses and work to improve upon them. Likewise, in previous posts I've discussed the need to be real and authentic. We need to be more real in our marriages. And more authentic with the people around us. And sometimes even more authentic with our spouses. Admit to your weak spots and don't just shove them under the rug.

Let's be honest with one another every single marriage has it's difficult moments. (And if you don't, one of the two of you is stuffing his/her feelings and needs.) But, I've seen too many people be too prideful to admit that things are tough at home. They cling to the perfect image, stuffing away the reality until it's shattered and difficult to repair.  It's a cliche, but a tiny crack and quickly grow and splinter if not nipped in the bud.

So, this Valentine's Day, let me encourage you to make something GOOD even BETTER. Read a marriage book with your spouse. TALK about your struggles even if it's hard. Possibly seek counsel. And CHERISH your marriage more than your pride. 

RED

Nearly two weeks ago my friend Linda tagged me in a circulating post. The object is to take a picture of 7 red objects in your home. I've discovered that despite my love for bold colors there is practically nothing red in our home. So it became a search to just find any at all.

Pat me on the back. I took all these pics with RJ's big, scary camera.

And a cute boy pic for good measure.

Why is it when your husband calls you at 4pm asking if you can host new friends over for dinner at 6:30, and you foolishly say "no problem", the following goes down: 

• Your realize that your floors haven't seen a mop in a week, and while it's okay for your 9 month old to crawl around in the family's dirt, they probably won't appreciate indoor grass stains on their baby girl.

• Just as your fully assemble cleaning supplies for said floors the 9 month old wakes early from his afternoon nap. And he would like his afternoon nursing. Now.

• 9 month old is placated with half a nursing and stuffed into his walker with a handful of Cheerios. Furiously cleaning the floors (which are promptly littered with 0-shaped oat puffs) you reach the last section when the door bell rings. An out of town friend and his companion. They're just driving through and would love to see the remodeled kitchen. 

• Considering this good friend spent more than two days of his own time and sweat on the kitchen it is more than necessary to give him the complete tour. Meanwhile, as you're showing off the new gas fire pit a little voice in the back of your head reminds you that tonight's dinner guests are gluten intolerant and the only semi-decent gluten-free meal you know how to make requires a trip to Trader Joes. Across town. 

• Waving good-bye to out of town friends you load baby into his car seat and race to Trader Joes. Arriving just in time to circle the parking lot three times, greet the rest of the after-work-shoppers, and grab the last remaining cart. 

• The last item on the list is finally loaded and you're in line to pay when you realize that crackers and brie are not a gluten free appetizer. Exit line.

• New appetizer selected you head back to the check-out to try again. Only to hear someone faintly calling your name. It's George! Your 75 year old friend from Toastmaster's that you haven't seen in a year. And he's never met Landon. Introductions must be made, Toastmasters news shared, relationship updates, etc.,etc. 

• You've finally made it to the cashier. Only to realize that he's new. Nice, but new. And in love with your baby. And wouldn't your baby love a balloon. Hold on right there while nice, new cashier arranges for the baby to get a yellow helium balloon.

• Finally home and the house is a bit messy. Not terrible but definitely could use a quick spruce up. Thankfully husband will be home soon and he'll be able to help. Guests are arriving in half an hour. 

• Baby is hungry. There is nothing too feed baby.

• Strawberries for dinner won't kill baby and they're keeping him really happy. Things are moving right along. Onions sauteing, baby dribbling berry juice, linen napkins out and ready. Next step of chili recipe - add diced tomatoes. Forgot to buy tomatoes. 

• Kiss husband (and expected house straightener) "hello" and promptly turn him around to go buy tomatoes.  Now you must make a choice: make side-dish for dinner or straighten house. 

• Side-dish seems more important. You head to the computer to print the side-dish recipe that you saw the other day. Something simple but you can't quite remember the ratio of ingredients and it's really important for the dish. The internet is down. 

• No tomatoes. No side dish. No clean house. No more pride. 

I learned so much that night. I believe God let all that stuff happen to teach me and RJ and lesson. We both love to entertain. And we love having new people (and old friends) over to our home. But, in all honesty, there is sometimes too much pride attached. RJ has done a remarkable job remodeling out house, we love creating a "fancy" atmosphere with appetizers, wine, cloth napkins, and homemade/homegrown meals. And while there is nothing wrong with those things there is something wrong in being prideful about them.  The nice stuff and fancy food aren't a problem, but when we start to feel the need and/or desire to look a certain way and give off a certain impression our hearts are acting too prideful. 

 The Hoskings don't eat three-course meals most nights. Nor to we light the candles and use cloth napkins. Usually we just fling ourselves onto the bar stools and you're lucky if you get a paper towel to wipe off  your face. So why is it so important to look different in front of friends? Having people over for dinner and making the evening a little more special is nice.  But by the time our friends arrived the other night RJ and I were frustrated with each other, Landon had been neglected (in my defense though he though strawberries for dinner was extra special!), and while our house looked good in the end we weren't filled with much joy. It would have been much nicer if I had chosen a more "boring" gluten-free meal and just gone to Vons, swept the floors instead of giving them the whole nine-yards, and let the clutter go since it wasn't even that bad.

Not the mention, I believe that when we set the precedent a certain way (i.e. fancy dinner party) then people feel pressured to follow suite. And I hate that. It sets us all up to fail. Particularly as women. We need to be real with each other and be willing to serve spaghetti with jar sauce, show off our unmade beds, nasty hair, and laundry piles. I know I feel alot better when I see that other women don't always have clean floors of matching clothes. Being honest and real serves everyone. We need to try it out more. 

I Got

to Marry 

This Man.

Someone smiled on me. 

Feelin' Good

The other day I came across and interesting section of the "Mom" book I was reading. The author was discussing the need for stay-at-home-mom's to feel good both emotionally and physically. As most of us can attest spending all day in your sweatpants is nice every once in awhile but day-after-day of baggy fashion statements will put anyone into a funky mood. Too many days in in the drawstring pants and you start to feel unattractive and insecure. But dressing to the nines for a trip to Target and the neighborhood park is a) impractical and b) unrealistic - who has it in them to both style their hair AND pick out a clean, matching, stylish outfit?! 

So the author suggested figuring out what's that one "thing" that makes you feel put together and attractive. Is it doing your hair? Then don't feel guilt about the second-wear-in-a-row-yoga-pants and spend some type with the hair straightener. Or is it wearing lipstick? Grab a few sticks of your favorite shade and put them in throughout the car and house so you can always have a pretty pout. 

I know my friend Kelly can't go anywhere without her bangs looking good. She's comfortable slipping into comfy workout gear for a trip to the coffee house, or going sans makeup for a walk in the park, but she has to have her bangs done. Bangs are her thing. 

While I love having my hair blow and curled it is unrealistic for me to do everyday. Especially since a little man in my house hasn't get figured out that pulling hair is a NO. So after really thinking this over I realize that when I have a pedicure I feel pretty. I may be wearing my oldest jeans, a thrift store tee, pony-tailed hair, and no makeup, but when I slip my feet into sandals and see pretty painted toes I feel good about myself. A smile + colorful feet = ready to take on the world....or the grocery store. 

Having this guy on my hip makes  me feel good too! 

What's your thing? What makes you feel pretty or polished for the day?